The Beaches of Barksdale Part II Busting Up Cashma
by Lawndale Stalker
Summary: Quinn helps Daria shop for a bikini she wouldn't be caught dead in.


11/11/01 I'm currently working on Part 3 of BLOOD OATH OF PATRIOTS, but this story popped into my head and wanted out. So I'm going to post it here in parts, and ask you all to be my beta readers. I'm particularly interested in whether I got the characters and their family interrelationships right. The rest of the story will be along very quickly, I promise. Oh, and I'm posting this in MS Word format, to see how it works. -GH  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
THE BEACHES of BARKSDALE  
  
PART II  
  
BUSTING UP CASHMAN'S  
  
by  
  
GALEN HARDESTY  
  
  
  
  
  
Daria eyed the gold card with contempt. "Adopt a cheerful attitude? Enjoy myself? Be pleasant? While wearing a swimsuit picked out by Quinn? An isolated cabin in the mountains. In the middle of at least four acres of land. Preferably surrounded by officially designated wilderness. With water supply. Electricity not necessary. Definitely no phone."  
  
"Daria, be reasonable. That's just not doable."  
  
"Why should I be reasonable when you never are? Hmmm. Make that "Pretend to be pleasant. And you might want to rethink "Enjoy myself". A car. Three years old or less. Reliable and cheap to operate, paid for and insured. Medium to dark green. Never owned by a smoker."  
  
Helen put the gold card away, pulled out the platinum. "I'm sure you can think of something you want other than a car, Daria. Why don't you go look for a swimsuit?"  
  
Daria stared at the credit card for several long seconds, then said, "We'll see. Keys."  
  
Helen brought out the keys to her SUV. "Now, you be careful, dear."  
  
"Dear season is over, and your license has expired." Daria glared at her mother, then at the keys and card. Finally she took them, turned, and headed to the family room. "Quinn! Mall!" The pitter-patter of little feet resounded in the upstairs hallway and thundered down the stairs. The front door opened and closed. A few seconds later, car doors slammed, Helen's SUV started up and pulled out of the driveway.  
  
Helen smiled a little, chose a wine cooler from the refrigerator. That hadn't gone too badly.  
  
Daria drove along the semi-rural road to the mall, her mood several shades darker than its weathered asphalt. Quinn chattered gaily from the front passenger seat. "This is gonna be so cool, Daria! You'll have a great time at the beach, now that you're finally gonna have a decent looking suit! And maybe I can even stand to be seen next to- um, never mind." Her remarks confirmed that she'd been briefed by Helen.  
  
"Be still, my wildly beating heart." Daria fought the urge to increase the upturn of Quinn's oh-so-cute noselet with an axe hand strike.  
  
"Jeez, Daria! If you'd lose that attitude and act normal, you'd enjoy yourself! You could maybe even meet some guys!"  
  
"Why would I want to meet guys at the beach when I don't want to meet them at school?"  
  
"You're a teenage girl. It's your time to meet guys! Why don't you want to meet guys at school, anyway?"  
  
Daria sighed. "I think I explained this before, Quinn. You don't date guys who ride the short bus to the special school, do you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"People of normal intelligence don't usually date retarded people. The line is usually drawn at an IQ of 70, thirty percent below average. I'm oversimplifying here, leaving out standard deviations and stuff. But if I were to draw a line thirty percent below my IQ, how many guys at Lawndale High do you think would be above that line?"  
  
"I don't know... a dozen? Seven or eight?"  
  
"One."  
  
"Just one?! Who?"  
  
"Upchuck."  
  
"Yak! That begins to explain your bad attitude. But what if you moved the line down a little further?"  
  
"If I move it down to forty percent below my score, it only nets me three other guys. A hopeless mama's boy computer nerd, a sociopathic misogynistic hacker, and Mack, who's taken. So you see, I have been looking."  
  
"Which begs the question, where, and how? You're talking data here, Daria. Where did you get it?"  
  
"Black bag job. I looked it up in the school records."  
  
"They don't let students look at those!"  
  
"I broke in at night, Quinn. That's what black bag job means."  
  
"Damn! How do you do these things? Hang out with G. Gordon Liddy? More superpowers?"  
  
"I bought a book and some lockpicks. I probably could've just sneaked around the janitors."  
  
"Well, anyway, the beach is a totally different situation. You don't have to pick one guy and spend the rest of your life with him. We'll only be there for a day. Find one, or several, that might be able to keep you amused for a few hours. If he doesn't pan out, throw him back and get another one."  
  
"Yeah, as if there were a chance in a hundred that I'll find a guy who can keep up his end of an intelligent conversation."  
  
"Ghod, Daria! Don't you get it? The beach is a place people go when they want to turn their brains off! Where they can forget about work and school and problems and worries for a little while! Try it one time! Leave all your studies and your philosophical mopery and your plans for world domination at home, and just be a beach bunny for a few hours. It'll do wonders for you!  
  
"I'll take it under advisement." Daria wondered why the prospect didn't disgust her as much as it should.  
  
  
  
"Come on out, Daria, and stand in front of the mirrors so you can see how you look."  
  
"Mnrmfmrr..."  
  
"You're being silly. I said I'd put one on too and draw eyeballs off you, if you want."  
  
Daria emerged from the dressing room in a pleather string top with medium low bottom. "Time enough for that particular humiliation later." She studied her reflections. "Fits okay."  
  
Quinn gave it a critical eye. "Yeah, but the color's wrong for you. Want to try this one? White looks good on everyone but albinos." She held up a white bikini with some kind of crystals set in geometric patterns on top and bottom.  
  
"Kind of Rhinestone Cowboy looking. Besides, I'd be afraid to sit down anywhere or eat anything in pure white."  
  
"Mmm, it's a point. I guarantee you'd look great in this one. The color sets off your hair and brings out your eyes. It's a little on the green side of teal. Not on Waif's summer in-colors list, but..."  
  
"That's a plus in my book. But it's too skimpy! String top and bottom?"  
  
"Strings always fit because they're so adjustable. Try it on. It's not that skimpy."  
  
"Mmmh.. all right. But see if you can find one that color with a few more square inches of fabric." Daria took the suit back into the dressing room.  
  
A few minutes later Quinn was again waiting impatiently outside Daria's dressing room. "Come on out, Daria. Let's take a look."  
  
"You come in. Help me get the top adjusted right."  
  
Quinn slipped in, closed the door. She started taking up slack on the strings that tied behind Daria's neck. "Oh, yeah, this is gonna look really good on you. I didn't notice that this top had any padding."  
  
"It doesn't."  
  
"Well, it's doing something. It makes you look..."  
  
"Like I have boobs? I do, you know."  
  
"I know that. Those awful jackets and the sport bras don't fool me. Let's just say this suit suits your figure exceptionally well. Go take a look."  
  
Daria walked out to stand in front of the mirrors, with Quinn behind her right shoulder. "This definitely works for you, Daria. It really enhances your bustline."  
  
"Yeah, by letting it all hang out. It's just too skimpy! Dad would have a cow!"  
  
"He does that all the time. Better than that, Mom would have a cow internally, and probably hurt herself trying not to show it! Daria, if ever you go to the beach or the pool, and don't want to be invisible, this is your swimsuit."  
  
Just then a loud commotion made them turn around. Over at the department boundary, two young men were extricating themselves from a heap of wreckage that had recently been a display. They glanced at Daria, then hurried away, red-faced.  
  
"And the verdict is in! You're a knockout!"  
  
"Oh, come on!" said Daria, trying to hide behind Quinn. "I didn't do that!"  
  
"You don't think so? When I say, walk over to in front of that chair, then back to in front of the mirrors. Ready... go! Go now!"  
  
Unwilling, but impelled by Quinn's tone, Daria walked to the spot indicated. There were no boys or men visible from her viewpoint except a couple in the far side of the store, too far for them to make out what she was wearing. She headed back toward the mirrors. She hadn't taken three steps when a similar clatter erupted. Turning, she saw two boys, whom she vaguely recognized as Lawndale High students, picking themselves out of the same pile of wreckage. They, too, glanced at Daria and hurried away, embarrassed.  
  
"Definitely a traffic hazard!" Quinn smirked.  
  
"Small wonder- I'm practically naked!" Daria ducked back in the changing room. "Did you find anything else?"  
  
"Try this one. It's not the same color, but it goes with your hair and skin tones."  
  
A few minutes later, Daria emerged in a spring-green bikini with white polka dots and white trim. The top covered a bit more of her, and the bottom had two-inch sides.  
  
"I like it. It looks good and I don't feel naked."  
  
"Yeah. but the last one looks great, and the feeling will go away. That top has kind of an engineered look to it."  
  
"Hmmm. You mean the underwire?"  
  
"No, just the general look. And you don't need an underwire."  
  
"Well, I like it and it feels comfortable and I want my clothes back now, so I'll take it."  
  
"Jeez, Daria, you are worse to shop with than a guy! I'm gonna run right over there and look at those new tank tops."  
  
Forty-five minutes later, Daria was browsing the magazine rack at the bookstore when Quinn caught up with her. "Daria! Why'd you run off on me like that? I've got a bunch of stuff waiting at the checkout counter!"  
  
Daria gave her a "don't even think of trying that with me" look. "Well, hurry up and pay for it. I'm about ready to go."  
  
"Gimme the card." Quinn held out her hand.  
  
"The card is my bribe. I know you well enough to know that you worked out your own deal with Mom. Move it or hoof it."  
  
"Come on, Daria! Don't be selfish! You know what the credit limit on that card is! You can't possibly... omigod. Omigod! You can't be planning to max out Mom's platinum card!"  
  
"Hide and watch. I'm leaving in five minutes."  
  
  
  
Ten minutes later, heading home in Helen's SUV, Quinn was feeling sorry for herself. "I had to leave a bunch of stuff, stuff I really needed! How could you be so mean!"  
  
"If you really need it, Mom will buy it for you. You're not my kid, thank goodness."  
  
"Ooohh!! I hope you do max out Mom's card! She'll make cat food out of you! I did that once with Dad's card, and I know!"  
  
"That was gross stupidity on your part. The case here is entirely different. Gross thoughtlessness on Mom's part, compounded by gross stubbornness. She knows she's wrong, but she won't admit it and she's still making me go, for no good reason that I can see."  
  
"You could just run off and go with Jane anyway."  
  
"I considered that, of course. But that would allow Mom to make me the bad guy. She could ground me, cut off my allowance, not buy me a car, and who knows what else. She's really good at that. What she did to me would vanish away and count for nothing because I wound up going on my trip despite it."  
  
"But I don't see how maxing her platinum will help you."  
  
"I'm not going to give away my plan, but generally speaking, I'm going to play a positional game. Grab up small incremental advantages, one by one, while she's driving toward her main objective. Tactically, I'll turn it around on her. I'll obey. I'll go to the freakin' beach. That allows me to seize the moral high ground, from which to guilt trip her and rain down terrible punishment. Strategically, my objective is to make sure she never dreams of pulling a stunt like this again, without allowing permanent, irreparable harm to come to our relationship. That last part will be the hardest. It would help a lot if I knew why she's so dead set on going to the beach this weekend. Do you know anything about that?"  
  
"No reason in particular, that I know of. My theory is that she has a family bonding geyser in her head somewhere, and every so often, when it builds up a head of steam, it blows."  
  
Daria chuckled. "Nice imagery, and a pretty good fit to the known facts. But it doesn't help me much in this instance. I'll keep looking for another reason."  
  
Quinn smiled a bit at the rare compliment from Daria, and decided not to rat her out to Helen. Daria had never before allowed her this much insight into her planning for such a major struggle. Quinn would keep her eyes and ears open, maybe even take notes. She might learn more this weekend than she would from this whole semester of school.  
  
  
  
Daria studied her monitor screen with satisfaction. "That about does it", she thought. Just then Helen's voice called from downstairs. "Daria? Did you get a suit? I'd like to see it."  
  
Daria grabbed a shopping bag from the floor. Standing, she picked up Helen's platinum card from beside her keyboard, blew on it and fanned it in the air, grinning wickedly.  
  
She came down the stairs and walked over to the sofa where Helen was sitting, surrounded by her usual notes and printouts. She placed the bag on the coffee table. "Quinn-approved bikini. Keys. Card. You might want to refill that before the weekend." From the far love seat, Quinn watched intently.  
  
"The SUV? We're taking the Lexus."  
  
"The card." Daria turned away.  
  
"Daria! You maxed out my PLATINUM?!"  
  
Daria's head snapped around so fast that her hair flared out horizontally. She skewered Helen with her eyes. In a tone as hard and cold as ice on Pluto she said, "Would you like me to cancel my purchases?"  
  
Helen quailed before Daria's steely glare and the promise it held. She barely avoided physically flinching. There were three more days before they left for the beach. She knew she couldn't take three days of Daria's cold fury. One or the other of them would be dead before they pulled out of the driveway on Saturday morning. She shook her head. No amount had been mentioned. She hadn't a leg to stand on. "Where did you spend all that money?"  
  
"The mall, the internet."  
  
But what in the world did you buy?"  
  
"Beachwear, prescription sunglasses, books, magazines, software, a scanner, a motherboard, a telescope."  
  
"A telescope?"  
  
"A 12 ½" f 5.7 Newtonian."  
  
"That sounds like a handy size. Can you collapse it and carry it in a pocket?"  
  
"No, Mother. 12 ½" is the diameter of the primary mirror. The tube is 18" across and 6 feet long. I can break it down for transport in the trunk and back seat of a small car."  
  
"Good grief! That's not a telescope, that's an observatory! I don't believe you're that interested in looking at stars."  
  
"Not stars so much as nebulae, galaxies, the outer planets, maybe some asteroids. I've been looking at pictures of them for years in books and magazines. I want to see them for real." Daria turned and went back upstairs. Helen watched her go with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Quinn watched her go with admiration, thinking "I've got to learn that look!" Jake mentally upped his estimate of Daria's power rating. She'd definitely scorched Helen's hull plates that time.  
  
  
  
1 Coming real soon-  
  
PART III  
  
1.1 ROAD KILL  
  
OR  
  
JUST AN OLD SWEET SONG  
  
  
  
Disclaimer  
  
 "Daria" and all related characters are trademarks of MTV Networks, a division of Viacom International, inc. The author does not claim copyright to these characters or to anything else in the "Daria" milieu; he does, however, claim copyright to all those parts of this work of fiction which are original to him and not to MTV or to other fanfic authors. This fanfic may be freely copied and distributed provided its contents remain unchanged, provided the author's name and email address are included, and provided that the distributor does not use it for monetary profit. (as if.)  
  
  Galen Hardesty [gehardesty@yahoo.com] 


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